In Unexpected Places
by molly2012
Summary: When Serena Campbell needs a helping hand, she finds it comes from an unexpected place and leads to some unexpected things. My first Holby fanfic. Read, enjoy and maybe even review :)
1. Chapter 1

_So I've finally made it over to Holby...would love to have some feedback on this! Please review and let me know what you think. _

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

* * *

Serena Campbell sat at her desk, typing furiously and muttering every so often under her breath. Occasionally she cast a glance at the clock ticking slowly on the wall before returning to the keyboard and the computer screen. She had the office to herself, but anyone listening closely outside would have been able to hear that her mutterings had nothing to do with the report she was trying to finish.

'Pompous. Arrogant. Stuck up, conceited, cold, egotistic, imperious….'

And so the list went on, her fingertips hitting the keyboard harder with every fresh insult. She was pissed off and wound up, and the knowledge that Henrik Hanssen had managed to do this to her yet again was just making it worse. It wasn't the fact that he had palmed this report off onto her in the first place. That was really what she was there for, after all. It wasn't even that he had abruptly changed the deadline. It was the infuriatingly cold and condescending way he had asked her – no, told her – that it had to be on his desk by six that evening, when he knew damn well she hadn't even started it. Her afternoon theatre list was full and it was nearly lunchtime already. As if to prove the point, her stomach gave a loud grumble and she sighed irritably, wondering if Hanssen ever felt such a thing as hunger. Probably not, she decided as she hit the full stop key with a final thump. The man was a machine. Feeling relieved that she had at least managed to finish the outline of it, she scrolled back up to read what she had typed.

'_Mortality rate per pompous 100,000 (directly egotistical age standardised) of conceited male population from all causes at all ages…..'_

She groaned and put her head in her hands. She needed caffeine. Quickly.

'Is little Rena having a tempter tantrum?'

Serena looked up between her fingers to see Michael Spence standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face and a takeout coffee cup in each hand. She fixed him with the same glare that she had given Hanssen earlier. It was the glare that could reduce F1s to tears and cause fellow consultants to mumble at their shoes, but it just made Michael's smirk even wider. He knew how much she hated that nickname.

'Call me that again, and I'll hang you up by the ankles before personally castrating you'.

'A task I'm sure you'd thoroughly enjoy', he said, handing her one of the coffees with an exaggerated flourish. 'But that's not the reason I came up here'.

Serena raised her eyebrows as she accepted the coffee, sniffing it suspiciously before taking a long sip. She had not forgotten the time Michael had tried to persuade her to cut down on the coffee and bought her endless rounds of peppermint tea instead.

'Patient I'd like you to look at….'

She held up her free hand to stop him before this went any further.

'Can't. I'm up to my eyeballs. Paperwork and a full elective list'.

'Ahhh, come on. Just a quick look. Malick said he'd cover for you'.

Serena's eyebrows shot even further upwards and Michael shrugged unapologetically.

'I'd really appreciate your input on this one'.

She sighed and took another mouthful of coffee. When Michael had the bit between his teeth, he was very hard to get rid of.

'Okay. What's the case?'

'Teresa Main. Forty one, came off her motorbike. No major injuries on the surface but she has abdominal pain that I'd like a GS opinion on'.

Serena reluctantly pushed back her chair and stood up.

'You owe me'.

'I brought you coffee?' Michael offered, standing back to let Serena through the door.

'Coffee is not going to do that report. Coffee…..' Serena emphasised the word, poking Michael in the chest as she passed him. 'Is not going to do all my elective hernias this afternoon'.

Michael smirked again, following her over to the lift.

'So what did Ric do this time?' Michael asked, referring to her fellow consultant on Keller, a man Serena was convinced had been put on this earth for the sole purpose of disagreeing with her.

'What?'

The lift doors pinged open, and Michael pressed the button for AAU.

'OK, so not Ric. That must mean Hanssen. Come on. Spit'.

Serena cast him a sideways glance, not really wanting to get into this conversation but knowing full well that he wouldn't give up until he got a halfway reasonable answer.

'He drives me insane', she finally said.

'This is Hanssen. He's the CEO. He drives everyone insane, it's in is job description'.

'He's so…..infuriating'.

Michael nodded, his lips twitching. Serena caught the movement and glared at him again.

'What's so funny?'

'You and Hanssen. If I didn't know better…..' He paused as the lift settled and the doors opened to reveal the chaos of a busy day on the Acute Admissions Unit.

'If you didn't know better….?'

Michal smirked at her as he led the way over to his patient. 'I'd say there was a reason you're letting him rile you. But since I do know better, I'm not gonna mention it'.

* * *

It was ten that evening before Serena finally unlocked her car and climbed behind the wheel with a heavy sigh. As she had suspected, Michael's patient had turned out to have complications. Serious ones. She had ended up having to push her own electives back and arrange with Malick to cover for her on Keller for most of the afternoon. Fortunately there had been nothing there that required her immediate attention. It wasn't until she got back to the office at four in the afternoon that she realised she had never finished the report, and the expletive that had escaped her lips had made Ric Griffin splutter into his mug.

Serena threw her handbag onto the passenger seat and started the engine. She hadn't been able to concentrate on mortality rate figures properly, but something that passed for a report had landed on Hanssen's desk at nine thirty-five. Michael's comments from earlier were playing over in her mind. He was right. Hanssen was Hanssen. He always irritated her – in fact he was probably the most annoying man she had ever met. She didn't particularly trust him, she didn't think she liked him, and she was certain all of those feelings were entirely mutual. What she couldn't understand was why it was bothering her all of a sudden.

She shook her head and put the car in gear. For once, she was glad Eleanor was staying with her father. She couldn't face any teenage tantrums tonight when all she wanted was a large glass of wine and her bed. She switched on the headlights, turned up the heating and started reversing out of the space before slamming the brakes on again. A loud clunk from the front driver's side wheel told her that something was not right, and she groaned. If her car broke down, it would be the fitting end to a crappy day.

'Shit, shit, shit'. She tried again, and the same clunk warned her not to try any further. She switched off the engine and got out, slamming the door hard behind her. 'Shit!'

'Something wrong, Ms Campbell?'

Serena stifled another groan as she turned around to see Henrik Hanssen standing behind her. All six foot four of him. She hated having to look upwards to speak to someone, especially when she was already wearing heels.

'It's clunking'. She waved vaguely in the direction of the front wheel. 'I'll have to call the breakdown people'.

'Ah'.

Serena watched in amazement as Hanssen put down his briefcase, bent down and stuck his hand in the space in between the tyre and the body of the car, moving it backwards and forwards.

'You have a broken suspension spring'.

For once, Serena was actually speechless. She couldn't believe that Hanssen knew what a suspension spring was, never mind that he could evidently tell when one was broken.

'You won't be able to drive it tonight, I'm afraid'. Hanssen took out a spotless handkerchief from his coat pocket and began wiping his hands on it carefully.

'I guessed that'. She finally recovered the power of speech. 'I'll call the AA'.

'No need tonight'. Hanssen picked up his briefcase again. 'I'll take you home'.

Serena just stood and looked at him. She was almost too stunned to do anything else. Was this Hanssen offering to do her a favour?

'Unless you would like to wait for another hour here before the AA come tonight?'

He had opened the passenger door of his car for her. She realised she had parked next to him and not noticed.

'I will pick you up in the morning. You can get it towed to the garage first thing, and it will be ready by the time you leave tomorrow night'.

She couldn't fault his logic. But then, Henrik Hanssen was nothing if not logical. Finally making up her mind – she really couldn't be bothered to sort it out tonight, and the car would be safe in the hospital car park – she reached across to grab her handbag an locked up before climbing into Hanssen's car.

'Your address, Ms Campbell?'

She nearly laughed at his absurdly formal tone before giving her address. As he drew smoothly out of the car park and indicated right, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. As usual, his face betrayed no emotion, no indication of what he was thinking or feeling. He looked straight ahead – which, she had to admit, was probably best when he was driving – and made no attempt at small talk. She gave a small sigh and turned to look out of the window. She had given up trying to penetrate the mysteries of Henrik Hanssen. What worried her slightly was that, every so often, she still wanted to.

Twenty silent minutes later, the car pulled up in Serena's driveway.

'Thank you'.

Hanssen did not stop the engine, but unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car with her.

'I'll see you in'.

'No need, Henrik'. She decided to risk a little light banter. 'I'm a big girl'. She rummaged in her handbag for her keys.

Was that a trace of a smile she saw on his face?

'At least until you have found your keys'.

She paused in her efforts and looked at him for a brief moment, her eyes narrowed slightly, wondering if he had heard about the time she had left her house keys on her desk and had to drive all the way back to Holby to get them. His face gave nothing away, except maybe a twinkle of amusement in his eyes that she decided she was imagining. It was late, after all. She pulled the keys out of the depths of her bag with a relieved sigh.

'I'll pick you up at seven thirty'.

Serena shook her head, thinking _seven thirty? Oh dear God. _

'Really, I can get a taxi'.

'It's no trouble. It's on my way anyway'.

This, she knew, was a blatant lie. Somewhere in the back of her mind a thought registered – that Hanssen was making an excuse to come by again. She quickly dismissed it. She must be more tired than she thought.

'Thanks again'. She pushed the door open and switched on the hall light.

'Good night, Serena'.

'Night'.

It wasn't until she had shut the door behind him that she realised he had used her first name. He never used her first name. She dropped her handbag on the floor and leaned against the front door as Hanssen's car lights disappeared down the road, feeling completely nonplussed.

It was not a feeling Serena Campbell was used to.


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow! Thank you so much for all the fantastic reviews - and to everyone who's followed and added this to their favourites. I never expected this to get such a great reception! No pressure for the rest of it, then...but anyway, here's the second chapter. Hope you enjoy! _

* * *

Serena was awake before she opened her eyes. She could tell it wasn't quite light outside, and the pounding of her head told her that getting up wasn't a good idea just yet. Slowly, as she gingerly moved her arms out from under the quilt, the events of the previous evening came back to her and she groaned out loud. Hanssen's behaviour had left her feeling totally confused. So confused that she had drunk half a bottle of Shiraz before she had even thought about something to eat. One cheese sandwich and another glass of wine later, she had finally made it to bed. And as she opened one bleary eye, she realised that neither the alcohol nor the sandwich had helped to shed any light on the matter. She was still just as bewildered, only now she had the mother of all headaches too.

'Fuck!'

Her one open eye had caught sight of the clock on her bedside table. She could have sworn she set the alarm, but either it hadn't gone off or she had slept right through it. The time on the display read 7:24. And if her memory served her correctly, Hanssen was supposed to be picking her up in six minutes. She threw back the bedcovers and hastily headed for the bathroom.

He was bang on time. She had expected no less, really. She had hoped for a minor delay – roadworks, perhaps, or that he might get miraculously lost on the way to her house – but at seven thirty exactly her front doorbell rang. Unfortunately, those six minutes had not been long enough for her to fully get dressed.

'It's open!'

Serena quickly crossed from bathroom to bedroom, buttoning up her blouse as she went and hoping that she was right in thinking that she had forgotten to lock the door. She stopped at the top of the stairs to sneak a peek down to where Hanssen now stood in her hallway, but he looked up just in time to see her adjusting her bra strap under the blouse.

'Overslept, Ms Campbell?'

Serena beat a hasty retreat into her bedroom, blushing furiously and swearing under her breath.

'No, I'll be down in a minute. Make yourself at home'. Although the idea of Hanssen making himself at home anywhere was laughable, she thought she should at least offer.

Ten minutes later her make up was done, her short hair was no longer sticking up in all directions, and as far as she could tell she was not missing any vital items of clothing. She quickly grabbed a jacket and headed down the stairs, expecting to see Hanssen still standing in the hallway, but there was no sign of him. Hearing noises from the kitchen, she cautiously headed down the hallway and stopped at the kitchen door. She rubbed her eyes and looked again, but it had made no difference except to slightly smudge her mascara. She still couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

'You need to go shopping, Ms Campbell'.

Serena was too stunned to do anything but accept the mug of black coffee he handed to her. She took a tentative sip, burning her tongue, as he turned back to the counter and resumed buttering the pile of toast slices that lay on the wooden chopping board.

'What are you doing?'

'Making you breakfast. Since it seems that you woke too late to make it yourself'.

He turned back to her, holding out a slice. As she threw her jacket over the back of a chair and took the toast from him, she searched his face for any sign of the cold disapproval she had been expecting, but couldn't see it. Instead, the amused twinkle from last night was back. Maybe, she thought as she took a bite, it hadn't been the effect of her tiredness and she hadn't imagined it. Maybe she just wasn't used to it. She swallowed hard and took another mouthful of coffee, wondering how far she dared go here. Part of her was still waiting for the telling-off.

'Do you think we could dispense with the 'Ms Campbell'?'

He looked at her, his eyebrows raised as he held out another slice of toast. Serena shrugged and smiled as she took it.

'Since you're making toast in my kitchen, it seems a bit formal. Wouldn't you say?'

Hanssen gave a single, curt nod, but Serena saw the corners of his mouth twitch as he turned back to the toast and took a piece himself. Pulling out the chair that she had carelessly thrown her jacket onto, she sat down and indicated for him to do the same.

'Aren't you going to give me a bollocking?'

Hanssen sat down stiffly opposite her at the small kitchen table, his back still ramrod straight, and took what could only be described as a delicate sip of his coffee.

'And why would I do that?'

'Because it is now….' Serena checked the clock on the wall. 'Ten to eight. Not half past seven'.

'Yes, half past seven has been and gone', Hanssen agreed, and took a bite of his toast.

Serena couldn't help it. She looked at him in open amazement and blinked several times as she realised that he was enjoying this. Finally, his face broke into a proper smile as he saw her expression. It was the first time she had ever seen it, and she found herself thinking it made him look….well, maybe not exactly handsome, but certainly much less scary.

'Believe it or not – Serena – I understand that these things happen'.

'What things?'

'A late night and most of a bottle of wine'.

Serena opened her mouth to deny the last part, but closed it again as Hanssen looked pointedly at the open bottle, still sat by the sink with an empty glass beside it. She wasn't sure whether to act contrite or give in to the laughter that was rapidly welling up inside her, and drank the last of her coffee while she tried to make up her mind. When Hanssen began to fastidiously brush crumbs from the table into his cupped hands, she could contain it no longer.

'What's so funny?' Hanssen enquired as he carried their empty cups over to the dishwasher.

Serena decided there was no point holding back now. In for a penny, in for a pound, as her grandmother always used to say.

'You', she said simply, trying not to snort with laughter. 'Henrik Hanssen is in my kitchen making toast and coffee. It's absurd'.

'Clearing up toast and coffee, to be more precise'. Hanssen sniffed the remaining contents of the wine bottle, and wrinkled his nose before tipping the red liquid down the sink. 'It was for purely selfish reasons. I have no wish for one of my best consultants to be keeling over in theatre because she got up too late to eat anything. And I wanted another cup of coffee myself'.

_One of my best consultants? _Serena wondered whether Hanssen realised he had just complimented her, and thought she had better not say anything just in case he retracted it.

'I did tell you to make yourself at home, I suppose'.

She looked over at him with a glint in her eye. Others who had been on the receiving end of that glint on previous occasions had called it flirtatious, sexy even, and Serena knew it. She briefly wondered what the hell she thought she was doing, and then decided it didn't matter anyway. Despite his sudden show of humanity, she still doubted whether Henrik Hanssen would know sexy and flirtatious if it jumped up and hit him in the you-know-whats.

Somewhat to her relief, he merely gave her a one of his expressionless looks before pointedly checking his watch.

'Your first theatre slot is when?'

'Nine thirty'. Serena stood up and slipped on her jacket before bending down to free the hem of her black trousers from where it had become caught in her heel. 'Another bloody hernia', she muttered. As she stood up and turned round to grab her handbag, she almost hit Hanssen in the chest and drew in her breath sharply. She had not realised he had been standing that close, and, to her shock, found that she did not immediately want to back away.

'Sorry', she murmured. 'Didn't see you there'.

'Evidently'. Hanssen's voice was dry, but his fingers were ever so slightly unsteady as they reached up to gently wipe the tiny spot of mascara that had smudged when she had rubbed her eyes earlier. The feel of his hand, and the unexpected softness with which he rubbed her cheek made her heart skip a beat before resuming its normal rhythm, albeit slightly faster than usual. She knew that any moment now her cheeks would start going pink and even he would be able to tell exactly what effect that small touch had had on her, but Serena found herself unable to look away. Finally, after what seemed like ages but was probably only seconds, he turned and picked up his car keys from the table. But not before she had caught a flash of something in his eyes. She wasn't quite sure what it was, and she sure as hell wasn't going to ask him what just happened. As she followed him out of the front door to the car, Serena found herself wondering whether Hanssen did know about flirtatious and sexy after all, and – more worryingly – whether she wanted to find out.

'Something wrong?'

She realised Hanssen was standing by the car door waiting for her to get in, and she shook her head, partly to answer him and partly to try and clear it of the totally inappropriate thoughts that were threatening to confuse her even further. She quickly climbed into the passenger seat, and grimaced as her headache returned with a vengeance.

'You'll find some paracetamol in the glove box'.

Of course she would. Serena sighed as she leaned forward to open the small compartment and saw a packet of the painkillers. It was probably the tidiest glove box she had ever seen, and she made a mental note never to let Hanssen in her car. Popping a couple of the little white tablets into her mouth, she swallowed and screwed up her face. Her head really was pounding.

'I should ring the garage'. She stuck a hand in her bag to try and retrieve her mobile, wondering if she had been sensible and saved the garage number from last time. Probably not.

'Already done'.

'What?' She turned to look at him. Once again, his face was expressionless, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

'Yes, while you were getting ready'. He turned away from her to check the road before swinging left towards the hospital. 'They should be collecting it at nine, so I suggest you leave the keys in it somewhere'.

'How did you know my registration?'

'I didn't. I gave them mine and told them yours would be parked next to it'.

She slowly realized that for once, yesterday she had parked in her allocated parking space. Which happened to be next to Hanssen's allocated space. Serena felt slightly dumbfounded. Again. This was beginning to be too much for one morning.

'You….' She stopped speaking as she realized she had no idea what to say. She could hardly ask Hanssen if he had suffered a knock to the head. Finally, she decided to just roll with it, that it was just a crazy couple of days. Her head was still hurting too much to do anything else and besides, stranger things had happened - although off the top of her head she couldn't think of any. As the car pulled smoothly into the hospital car park, she consoled herself with the thought that he would probably return to normal soon enough, and then she would not have to worry about what her own feelings might or might not be. Surprisingly, the thought was not as comforting as she imagined.


	3. Chapter 3

_A slightly shorter ( and quicker) update! Had more time over the weekend than I thought I would. Thank you for all the reviews and follows - I really do appreciate it :). _

_This might be a good time to point out that, while there are some storylines currently on the programme that I'm using, for the purposes of this fic I'm choosing to ignore the one about Serena's mother. That's partly because I have another story in mind that rests heavily on that, and also partly because I'm not really in the mood at the moment to write heavy angst. So sorry if it comes across as being picky and choosy, but hey - it's called fiction for a reason :). _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Serena took the coffee that the man behind the counter handed her, and stared at it for a moment. Strong and black, but somehow she doubted it would do the job on its own. With a slight shrug of resignation, she picked up three sachets of brown sugar and tipped them, one after the other, into the cup. She hardly ever took sugar in coffee, but she figured today counted as an emergency.

'Did I just see you getting out of Hanssen's car?'

The American accent close by her ear made her jump violently, almost spilling her coffee.

'Christ, Michael!' She glared at him, and held up a finger as he opened his mouth again. 'Don't. Don't even start. I have the mother, father, uncle and aunt of all headaches and I am not in the mood. OK?'

'I'd say hangover'. Michael looked at her, the smirk back on his face.

'What?'

Michael fell into step with her as she headed towards the lifts.

'That much sugar? That's no ordinary headache'.

'Whatever it is, you're making it worse'. Serena hit the button for Keller, and looked pointedly at Michael.

'Coming up with you. Got some paperwork for Ric'. He waved the folder he was holding, and Serena sighed. Great. And they had the lift to themselves.

'So'.

'My car broke down'.

'Ah'.

'Hanssen offered to give me a lift home'.

'Right'.

'And picked me up again this morning'. Serena took a mouthful of coffee and looked at Michael. 'That sounded ridiculous, didn't it?'

'Umm-hmm'. To his credit, Michael hadn't quite succumbed to fits of laughter. 'So what happened in between?'

'A bottle of red wine. On my own'.

'Oops'.

'Yes. Oops. So please don't….' She waved a hand vaguely as the lift door opened.

'Hey', Michael held up his hands in mock surrender. 'I promise. But Serena – when was the last time Hanssen did anyone a favour like that?'

She didn't need any more of the over-sweet coffee to catch his meaning. And therein lay her problem.

'Yep. I know'.

* * *

For once, Serena could honestly say that she was grateful for so many hernias. Her electives from the day before kept her busy until an emergency appendectomy around lunchtime, and the resulting paperwork meant that she had no time to think about Hanssen. It was pushing five in the afternoon when she threw the last patient folder into the tray on her desk and sighed with relief. Her head was beginning to ache once more and she realized that, yet again, she had not had time for anything to eat. She sipped her coffee and switched screens to check her email, enjoying the beginnings of a fantasy involving an extra large four-seasons pizza, but before she could start properly salivating a sharp voice cut across her thoughts.

'You're a hard woman to track down'.

Serena did not look up from the screen.

'Really? You should have tried theatre. That's what some of us do here, we operate on people'.

'Very funny'.

Jac Naylor walked into the office and sat down on Ric Griffin's empty chair without waiting for an invitation. Serena sighed and looked up, wondering what the younger consultant wanted. She had a grudging respect for Jac, and although neither of them would go so far as to say they were friends, they at least had a decent working relationship. Most of the time.

'And what can I do for you, Miss Naylor?'

'Mr Hanssen has given me the go-ahead to perform the new Japanese procedure first thing tomorrow. We had a new admission on Darwin today who is a perfect candidate. Finally'. She paused. 'I – Mr Hanssen – wondered if you would like to observe'.

'You wondered or Mr Hanssen wondered?' Serena enquired. Just to be clear.

'Hanssen suggested it, but…' Jac shrugged. 'I would have asked you anyway. The more the merrier'.

Serena smirked. Jac would never pass up an opportunity for an audience, especially for something as big as this.

'Mo Effanga and Elliot Hope are both assisting'. Jac handed Serena the folder she had been carrying. 'If you want to observe, I suggest you read this beforehand. It gives you an outline of the procedure. I don't want to be answering basic questions while I'm trying to operate'.

'Of course not', Serena said drily, taking the folder as Jac stood up to leave.

'So, eight o'clock tomorrow morning? Theatre one as far as I know'.

Serena nodded as Jac left the office, swinging the door shut behind her. She sat looking at the folder without opening it, and then, without stopping to think too much about what she was doing, reached for her mobile and dialed Hanssen's number. He answered on the second ring.

'Ms Campbell?'

'Why have you just volunteered me for an eight o'clock start tomorrow?'

'I take it Miss Naylor has been to see you?'

'She has. With a folder an inch thick that's supposed to be my bedtime reading'.

There was a pause.

'I would never read in bed, Ms Campbell. Bad for the eyes'.

Serena managed to choke down her snort of laughter, and she was grateful she had phoned instead of calling by Hanssen's office. Resisting the urge to ask him what he did instead, she flicked open the folder and began to read out loud.

'_The surgical management of a perforation to the thoracic esophagus at the __cricopharyngeus muscle….._You're right. This is going to be bad for more than my eyes'.

'If it's any consolation, I have the same folder. And it will look bad if you aren't there. Three members of the board are also coming to observe, and you are joint executive director of surgery'.

'I thought I was clinical executive director?'

'Yes, you are'.

Serena scowled. 'I'm beginning to think you conjured these titles out of thin air to keep me quiet'.

'Well, if that was the case it hasn't worked very well. But that's irrelevant. The point is I think you should be there tomorrow'.

'Okay. Okay. I'll be there'. She sighed and flicked the folder shut. A fun evening obviously lay ahead.

'Have the garage returned your car yet?'

Serena realized with a sinking feeling that she had completely forgotten to check.

'Oh, crap'.

'Crap indeed, Ms Campbell. I would ring them now, before they close'.

Serena hastily hung up, and dialed the number of the local garage. She was relieved when the young mechanic who answered the call told her that her car had been driven back to the hospital car park an hour ago, suspension spring mended and keys left under the mat in the passenger footwell. She didn't want to know what the bill was, and, as she read out her credit card number, decided that she would just wait and be surprised when her next statement came through.

As she collected her house keys and jacket, preparing to leave on time for once, she paused and thought back to that morning. She still couldn't work out why Hanssen had gone out of his way for her, why he had offered to take her home and pick her up again, why he had made her coffee and breakfast, why he had wiped mascara from her cheek…..why his touch had made her react in that way. She blinked and swore softly as she pulled out her phone again. She was about to do something she was already convinced she would regret.

'Twice in the space of twenty minutes, Ms Campbell. Does this mean you need a lift home again?'

'Your lucky day. And no, my car is safe and sound in the car park. But I was wondering….'

'Yes?'

Oh, shit. Serena swallowed. She was regretting it already.

'If you wanted to come over for something to eat tonight and plow through Jac's folder. Might make it less…tedious'. She closed her eyes, waiting for the coldly polite refusal she was sure would come.

'As long as you are not offering to cook'.

Serena's eyes shot open. She hadn't actually though about what she would do if he said yes.

'I could pick up a Chinese?' Somehow she doubted that Hanssen would go for the four-seasons pizza.

'I have some things to finish up here. Since I take it you haven't had lunch, can you wait another hour?'

Serena's mouth dropped open. She could almost see that twinkle in his eyes again. Damn the man. This had been a very bad idea. Despite that, she dropped her jacket back down on the back of her chair and put her house keys safely away in her handbag.

'Only if you don't tell anyone about the extra spring rolls I'm planning on getting'.


	4. Chapter 4

_A slightly longer update here! Let me know what you think :). Thanks to everyone for reading! _

* * *

Serena pulled into her driveway and switched off the engine, taking the moment before Hanssen's car appeared behind her to check her make up in the mirror. She told herself to get a grip, but it didn't help. For the umpteenth time since they had left the hospital she wondered what, precisely, had come over her, but that didn't help either. There was nothing she could do about it now. Taking a deep breath and grabbing the takeout bag, she got out of the car and headed towards her front door.

'Here'. Hanssen had parked his car and was standing beside her on the doorstep. She thrust the bag of food at him while she hunted in her handbag for her keys.

'Why don't you keep them with your car keys?'

Serena gave him a look that said she thought he had gone completely mad before her hand emerged, triumphantly clutching a Yale key.

'Because then if I lose my house key, I don't lose my car key as well. And vice versa'.

She pushed open the door and switched on the hall light as Hanssen followed her in. As she dropped her handbag on the floor and shrugged out of her jacket, she could feel his eyes following her. It was not an unpleasant feeling but, like so many today, it was one she was not expecting.

'Food first?' Serena didn't think she could cope with thinking about Jac's new procedure, or Hanssen, before she had something to eat.

'I think we'd better'. Hanssen hung his coat up on a hook by the door, smoothing out the creases carefully. 'I find the thoracic esophagus always looks better on a full stomach'.

Serena led the way back to the kitchen. That morning seemed like a very long time ago, and she still couldn't quite believe that Hanssen had been in here making breakfast. If there hadn't still been toast crumbs on the chopping board, she would have wondered if she had dreamt it. She turned around to take the bag from him, and as their fingers brushed felt a slight twist in her gut that had nothing to do with hunger.

'Can I do anything?'

She thought he looked slightly uncomfortable, and was almost relieved. Things hadn't gone completely topsy-turvy just yet, then.

'Plates are in there'. She indicated a cupboard and started pulling the foil cartons out of the bag.

'Shredded beef, chicken in black bean, stir fried broccoli, spring rolls with extra roll and extra spring, and – did you really order this one?' She held up a carton that had _fried dumplings_ written on the top in black marker pen. Hanssen squinted at it before nodding.

Serena shook her head, smiling, and opened a drawer for some cutlery. She wondered if she could get used to Hanssen surprising her.

'Didn't put you down as a dumpling kind of person, but never mind'.

'Really?' Hanssen sat down at the table and began spooning the food onto the plates. 'What kind of person did you put me down as?'

Serena shrugged. She was beginning to enjoy herself. 'Oh, I don't know. Maybe more of the king-prawn-with-garlic-and-chilli kind'.

'A king prawn?' Hanssen raised his eyebrows before returning his gaze to his plate. 'Useful to know, I suppose. Would you like one?' Serena smirked as she sat down opposite him and took a dumpling from the carton.

'You did look more relaxed earlier, though', she remarked, taking the full plate he handed to her. 'I thought you would have realized by now that I don't bite'.

Hanssen's eyebrows almost reached his hairline.

'That could be open for debate'. The ghost of a smile crossed his face. 'And yes, I maybe was more relaxed, as you put it, this morning. That was before I'd had all day to think about it'.

'Think about what?'

Serene thought she knew what – that last night and this morning had probably taken him by surprise just as much as her – but she couldn't resist teasing him a little. He didn't answer, however, but merely nodded towards her plate.

'Your food's getting cold, Serena'.

'Back on first name terms, are we?'

'It would seem appropriate. Since we are back in your kitchen'.

They ate in silence for a while and Serena felt her slight wariness return, still thinking about what had precipitated this change in Hanssen's attitude. She had certainly given him no reason to soften towards her as far as she was aware, and even she would admit that her behaviour in the past had been….questionable. And when she had told him she didn't bite, that was of course assuming that the bait was not a promotion into his job. Her ambition had been an unfortunate fact of life of which he was very well aware. Finally she put down her fork and leaned back in her chair, looking over to see Hanssen's eyes already on her.

'Why have you done all of this today?'

Hanssen looked as if he was expecting the question, and was considering his words carefully.

'A colleague needed a favour'. His expression gave nothing away, and Serena wondered whether he knew how to play poker.

'So if it had been Michael Spence's car that had broken down you would have done the same thing?'

The corner of Hanssen's mouth twitched slightly.

'I don't think Mr Spence would have needed me to tell him he had a broken suspension spring, for a start'. He stood up, unfolding his long legs, and carried their empty plates over to the sink to soak. 'And the look of shock on his face when I offered a lift wouldn't have been nearly as gratifying so no, I probably wouldn't have'.

He filled the kettle and turned away from Serena to rinse out the coffee pot from that morning. She almost missed his next sentence because of the running water.

'And I very much doubt whether Mr Spence would have made a hangover look quite so good'.

Serena stared at his back, wondering if she had heard correctly or if the water was playing tricks with her ears. Was he flirting with her?

'I wasn't hungover'.

He didn't answer, but turned off the tap and dried the coffee pot. He seemed to be avoiding her gaze and for the sake of something to do, Serena got up and fetched the coffee from the fridge. As she looked inside, she realized that he had been right that morning. She really did need to go shopping.

'Have you read any of Miss Naylor's report?'

'You mean her version of 'War and Peace?'' She knew that he was changing the subject deliberately and decided to let him get away with it for now, if only because she wasn't sure herself what to say. 'Not much. Enough to know that it's probably going to give me nightmares about bits of my bowel appearing in my gullet'.

'It's an amazing procedure. Truly groundbreaking'. Hanssen took the coffee from her and carefully measured some out into the pot.

'I'm sure it is'. Serena paused to watch, standing next to him with her back against the kitchen counter. 'I usually just tip it in'.

The look he gave her would have made a lesser mortal cringe, but Serena just shrugged and reached across him for a piece of beef that had been left in the carton.

'Usually comes out ok'.

Hanssen just shook his head.

'Remind me never to let you make me coffee', he muttered.

Serena licked her fingers, now sticky from the beef, and picked up the folder that was sat on the counter.

'Ready for this, then?'

Hanssen glanced at it.

'I've already read the first part'.

Serena stared at him, wondering when on earth he had found time to read fifty pages of technical surgical text, but decided not to bother asking. She carried the folder over to the table, and sat back down with a sigh.

Despite herself, it was not long before Serena was engrossed. Hanssen – and Jac – had been right. The procedure was fascinating in both its brilliance and simplicity, and she had to admit that the information Jac had put together would not only be useful but was also very well explained. She gave a vague nod of thanks as Hanssen placed a cup of coffee by her elbow, and only realized that he was standing behind her and looking over her shoulder when his finger came down to point at something on the page. It was a section she had been reading over for a few minutes, not quite understanding where it fitted in.

'The fifth and last incision goes here, which allows access to the muscle via a laproscopic tube'.

'Ah, ok. Got it. So only five incisions?'

'Only five', Hanssen confirmed. He leaned over a little bit further to turn back a page, and rested his hand lightly on Serena's shoulder as he did so, sending a little tingle down her spine.

'The fourth one enables the surgeon to see the rest of the esophagus, which greatly reduces the risk of further tearing or bleeding. Here'. He pointed again, and Serena nodded, still conscious of his hand brushing the skin on her neck. Not for the first time, she thought what a good teacher Hanssen was. He had a way of explaining things that made them seem so obvious, you wondered why you hadn't understood in the first place. Of course, she thought wryly, in this case the fact that they were in such close proximity was maybe helping as well. She was almost disappointed when he pulled round the other chair and sat down next to her to read the rest from his own folder, but from the way her heart was beating, she reasoned it was probably for the best.

They read for almost two hours, only breaking the silence occasionally to ask the other a question or to get more water or coffee. Finally Serena closed the folder with a soft slap, and looked at it thoughtfully.

'You're right. That is amazing'. She drained the last of her coffee. 'No wonder Jac wanted to get her hands on this'.

Hanssen nodded, and Serena stood up, stretching her back and arms. She felt her shoulders groan as she did so, and thought again that she really should make time to get back to the pool and do some swimming. If she was not careful she would end up molded into the shape of a chair.

'So if this procedure goes well tomorrow Jac gets the funding, is that right?'

Hanssen gave her a sharp look.

'If the procedure goes well and if the board deems it a prudent investment – then yes. Funding will be allocated to set Holby up as a center in the UK'.

'At the expense of what?'

'That has not been decided yet'.

'Oh come on, Henrik'. She leaned against the table, deliberately sounding casual whilst reminding him of the fact that she had an MBA for a reason. 'This is me you're talking to. Funding doesn't just come out of nowhere. I haven't heard about any new sources, so that must mean it's coming from somewhere else'.

Hanssen sighed, and leaned back in his chair. For once, he was looking up at her and not the other way around.

'When it's decided, you will be the first to know'.

'Technically the second – since I'm assuming you'll be making that decision – but I suppose I'll take what I can get'. She wasn't really in the mood to press him on finance matters tonight. She would save that for another time.

They sat in silence again for a few minutes before Hanssen checked his watch and sighed quietly.

'I should go'. He stood up, but Serena noticed his hesitation.

'You don't have to'. She didn't say what she really meant, which was that suddenly she didn't want him to go. And from his lack of progress towards the door, she guessed that he didn't really want to go either.

'I'm not sure that staying is a good idea, Serena'. He was standing very close to her now, his voice quiet. He didn't meet her gaze, and impulsively she reached for his hand. She was very surprised when he didn't pull it away, but wound his fingers around hers.

'Terrible idea', she agreed, nodding. 'But surprisingly attractive'.

He brought his other hand up to gently touch her cheek, smiling as she took a sharp breath.

'This is not my strong point', he admitted, his fingers now running along her jaw, tracing the slight pink flush that she knew was spreading down her cheeks. He had to know the effect he was having on her.

'Oh, you're doing just fine'.

'Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment'.

Serena smiled, knowing her reputation as an accomplished charmer. She had thought the flirting had been lost on him, but evidently she had been wrong.

'All for show, I'm afraid', she murmured. And unfortunately it was true, although she had no intention of admitting how long it had actually been since she followed through on any of it.

'Hmm'. Hanssen's hand dropped to the neckline of her blouse, running along her collarbone. 'And is there anything else about Serena Campbell that's just for show?'

Serena didn't reply. She had a horrible feeling he already knew the answer anyway, and instead shifted her position so that she was standing upright. It didn't help much. She had kicked her heels off a long time ago, and Hanssen was much taller than she was. She reached up and wrapped her free hand around his neck.

'Are you going to kiss me anytime soon?'

When his lips touched hers, she felt a warmth rush through her, felt the passion and intensity that she would never have dreamt could come from him. A small moan escaped her, and she pressed herself against him as his hands wrapped around her back, pulling her closer and upwards to meet him. When they finally broke apart, both breathless, she was grateful that he did not let her go. She wasn't sure she could have stayed upright.

'Wow', she purred quietly.

He smiled, a real smile again that seemed to change his face completely.

'Wow?'

'Umm-hmm'. Serena nodded. 'Although you could do it again, just to be sure. I might have got that wrong'.

As he obliged, she quickly decided that she hadn't made a mistake. And, unwise as it probably was, she really didn't want him to leave.

'We have to be at work in a few hours'.

He raised his eyebrows, and looked over at the clock. It was just gone midnight.

'Indeed', he murmured.

'Do you want to go?' Serena's question was typically direct, and he shook his head.

'Not really. But…this is maybe….'

'Reckless? Foolish? Rushing things?'

'All of the above'.

Serena nodded.

'You have, er…surprised me today', she admitted. 'Why? I thought you hated me'.

Hanssen looked surprised.

'It would be very hard to hate you'.

'Even when I tried to swipe your desk chair out from under you?'

Hanssen paused, thinking about his answer, and for once Serena waited patiently. She was genuinely curious.

'That was difficult. But I expected it at some point. Your intelligence and ambition might be a dangerous combination, but it's the reason I hired you'.

Serena nodded, trying to take it in.

'I wouldn't blame you, you know'. It was the closest she had ever come to admitting that she had, at times, overstepped the mark.

Hanssen shook his head. He looked slightly uncomfortable again, but Serena suspected that he would have been uncomfortable having personal conversations with anyone.

'You arouse a lot of strong feelings, Serena, but hate is not one of them'.

She looked up at him, not daring to ask what he meant, but he didn't elaborate. Taking a deep breath, she realised that there was no point in offering him the spare room. If he stayed, it would be in her bed, and he was right about not rushing. They were stepping into unchartered territory here, for both of them.

She walked with him into the hallway, watching as he pulled on his coat and found his car keys.

'So I'll see you in the morning?'

He nodded, and she reached up to kiss him again. When his car had finally disappeared out of the driveway, she found herself sinking to the floor against the front door. She felt shell-shocked, exhilarated, excited and terrified all at the same time, and she couldn't help wondering where on earth they would take it from here. Wherever it was, she only hoped he wouldn't regret it.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you for all the lovely reviews for the last chapter! Hope everyone enjoys this one. I have to admit, I am having real fun with this...:)_

* * *

Serena sat at her desk checking her emails, replying to the ones that needed a reply, binning most of the others, saving a few for later. She had managed a couple of fitful hours of sleep after Hanssen had left, but after another hour of tossing and turning decided that enough was enough. She had arrived in her office at ten past six, slipping in past Chantelle Lane who was working the night shift. Much as she liked the young nurse, she couldn't face her bright chirpiness at this time in the morning.

Glancing at the clock, Serena realized it was now seven thirty, and she would have to finish up if she wasn't going to be late for the start of Jac's operation. As she saved her documents and closed down her email, there was a quiet knock at the door.

'Ms Campbell? I thought you could do with this'. Chantelle placed a large blueberry muffin and a coffee down on Serena's desk. Her smile was still wide and her blonde hair still perfectly in place, even though she had been working for the past thirteen hours. 'I saw you come in early and you looked busy, but if you're going to be observing Miss Naylor all morning you'll need the sugar'.

Serena smiled.

'Thanks, Chantelle. I don't think Miss Naylor would appreciate any of us observers taking a snack break later on'. She took a sip of the coffee. 'Anything happened overnight that I should know about?'

Chantelle shook her head. 'Mr Harvey in bed four is booked in for his kidney stones later – he's going to need a lot of reassuring, he's very nervous, poor man, and he threatened to back out altogether – but I'll let Mr Griffin know that when he comes in. And Mrs Jackson had a bad reaction to her anesthetic yesterday, but we sorted that with some extra anti-nausea drugs.' She thought for a moment. 'I don't think there was anything else. It's been a quiet night'.

'Okay. What time is Mr Griffin in?'

'Mr Griffin is in'.

Both Serena and Chantelle turned at the sound of a deeper voice to see Ric Griffin entering the office, dumping his briefcase on the desk and slinging his coat over the chair.

'Ah, Ric', Serena greeted him. 'Just in time, I have to disappear any moment now'.

'Hmm. Jac's new procedure. How did you wangle an invite to that one?'

Serena smirked. She liked teasing Ric, especially when he was obviously grumpy to start with. 'I must have something you don't. But don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm sure there'll be plenty of other opportunities'. She stood up, finishing the last of the muffin and picking up the coffee.

'If you need me for anything, call me'.

'Oh, I'm sure I can manage a couple of kidney stones'.

Chantelle looked worried.

'Mr Griffin, there might be a problem with the kidney stones…..'

Serena smiled as she left the office, leaving behind Chantelle's earnest explanation and Ric's impatient questions. As she walked quickly down the corridor towards the lift, she wondered how Hanssen would behave towards her. She felt slightly nervous at the thought of seeing him after last night but also – and she hated to admit this – slightly excited.

'Like a bloody teenager again', she muttered to herself, and was grateful no one else was around to see the grin that settled on her face. Hanssen had been right. On paper, it was reckless, foolish and a terrible idea. Somehow, though, when he had kissed her, it had seemed like the best idea either of them had ever had.

After ditching the empty coffee cup and making a quick stop at the bathroom, she pushed open the door to the operating theatre. There was already quite a crowd gathered, and she groaned inwardly as she saw that one of the representatives of the board was Cunningham. She realized she should have expected it, but she really couldn't stand the man. Hanssen was talking to the other two board members – she couldn't remember their names for the moment – and Elliot Hope was standing in the corner, chatting animatedly to Tara Lo. He looked over as she entered, and waved in greeting.

'Ms Campbell! Glad you could join us'.

'Elliot'. Serena nodded to him, smiling. She rather liked Elliot Hope. He reminded her of a big teddy bear, a little too soft at times for her liking but a damn good surgeon.

'I thought you were assisting?'

'Change of plan'. Elliot moved to stand beside her. 'Jac thought she wouldn't need the extra pair of hands to start with, so if all goes to plan I'll be scrubbing in later. I must say, I'm really rather excited'. He rubbed his hands together, and moved back to continue his conversation with Tara. Serena nodded to the F1, and turned to see what was happening in theatre.

'Good morning, Ms Campbell'.

Her heart skipped a beat.

'Good morning, Mr Hanssen. Mr Cunningham'.

She hoped no one but her could see the tiny twinkle in his eyes, the only indication on his otherwise professional face that anything had changed between them.

In the operating theatre, Jac Naylor turned round, her mask already on and a tiny scalpel in her hand.

'Ms Campbell'. She sounded slightly impatient, but then Jac always was. Serena discreetly checked her watch. She was bang on time.

'So, if we're all now here I'd like to make a start. Miss Effanga is assisting me to start with, Elliot Hope later on, and Nurse Maconie is here for the duration. I hope you all read the information I gave yesterday, but any questions, please ask'.

Serena smirked. It was like being back in a classroom. As Jac made the first incision, she moved to stand next to Hanssen and Cunningham.

'Does the poor man know he's like the star of a West End show?' she murmured, hoping that Jac wouldn't hear her through the intercom.

Elliot looked over and smiled. 'Oh, he was quite happy, Ms Campbell. To be honest, I think he was quite pleased with all the attention'.

'Hmm'. Serena craned her neck to see what was going on, but Jonny Maconie was successfully blocking her view.

'You look tired, Ms Campbell'.

It was Cunningham who had spoken and he turned to her now, a look of artificial concern on his face. Serena narrowed her eyes. She hoped he wasn't going to make a habit of irrelevant – and borderline rude - observations.

'I'm fine, Mr Cunningham', she replied sweetly. 'Although I didn't sleep very well last night, I have to admit. Strange dreams'.

She felt Hanssen stiffen beside her, although whether he was nervous or trying not to laugh, she couldn't tell.

'Oh?'

'Yes, too much Chinese food, I think. At one point I was in a wrestling match with a king prawn'.

Hanssen didn't quite turn his splutter into a cough in time, and Serena reached up and patted him on the back.

'Tickle in your throat?'

Cunningham looked as if he regretted starting this little sparring match already, and turned back to theatre with a stony look on his face while Hanssen cleared his throat once more and looked down at Serena. She confidently returned his gaze with an innocent, yet slightly mischievous smile, and she could have sworn she saw the corners of his mouth twitch even as his eyes gave her a warning look.

'Making the second incision'.

Jac's announcement forced their attention back to proceedings on the other side of the glass wall, and for the next two hours the conversation in the observation room was minimal. It was obvious to Serena that the board members had no idea what was going on, and were quite relieved when Cunningham announced that they had to leave, it had been a pleasure, he hoped the rest of the procedure went well, etcetera, and that he would speak with Hanssen later regarding where to take it from here. Not long after their departure, Jac invited Elliot to scrub in, and he left quickly, looking even more excited than earlier. And perhaps feeling slightly overawed by being left alone with Serena and Hanssen, Tara Lo made her excuses and headed back to the ward.

Serena checked to make sure the intercom was off before she spoke quietly.

'Actually, the king prawn was a lie. I hardly slept at all. And it's all your fault'.

Hanssen did not look at her, but kept his eyes on the operating table.

'Well, I had some trouble concentrating on my way home and took a wrong turn. I ended up on the ring road. So if I blame you for that, perhaps that makes us even and we can start again'.

Serena smirked. The thought of Hanssen being so off-balance that he had got lost was quite an appealing one. She moved ever so slightly closer to him, feeling his fingertips brush hers, and was very glad the board members had left the room. Elliot would have not have noticed, but Cunningham had eyes like a hawk.

They watched in silence for a while and Serena found herself thinking that it really was amazing to see. Three of the country's top surgeons, all in the same theatre performing a groundbreaking new procedure – that had a certain buzz to it and, on a professional level, she was very glad she had the opportunity to be there. Every so often one of the scrub nurses would turn the intercom back on and Jac would explain something, but mostly she didn't need to. The atmosphere seemed calm and focused, if a little tense. Even Jonny Maconie seemed to be containing his usual questionable sense of humour in honour of the occasion, although Serena couldn't help noticing that he kept a close eye on Jac. She smiled inwardly. It was an unlikely pairing, but then, she realized, she wasn't really in a position to pass judgment on that.

It was another hour before Serena checked her watch. This was taking longer than she had anticipated, and it was not yet over. She didn't have any procedures scheduled in theatre herself, but didn't want to be absent from the ward for too long either.

'Feel free to leave if you have other matters to attend to, Ms Campbell'.

'I might have to. There are quite a few new admissions scheduled for today and Malick's still on leave'.

Hanssen nodded, and Serena hesitated before speaking.

'Can I call by your office later? See how this ended up? We might need to discuss that funding you were talking about'.

He raised his eyebrows. 'We'll see. About discussing the funding. And why are you asking permission to come to my office?'

'Why not?'

'Well, usually you just barge in. Last time, if I remember correctly, you even forgot to knock'.

Serena smiled cheekily as she turned to leave.

'Wouldn't want to interrupt anything. And besides, I'd rather catch you on your own. Can't promise to keep my hands to myself, you see'.

* * *

Four o'clock that afternoon saw Serena standing outside Hanssen's office, carefully balancing two mugs of coffee with the pile of paperwork that she needed him to sign off on. Resting the folders on her hip and holding them there with her elbow, she reached up to knock, but just as her knuckles were about to hit the wood the door swung open and she almost hit Michael Spence instead. He stopped quickly so as not to walk into her, and gave her an amused, questioning look as he saw the coffees.

'Need a hand with that?'

'No, thank you'. Serena grabbed the folders with her now-free hand before she dropped them, and Michael stood aside to let her into Hanssen's office. His smirk as he shut the door told her that she hadn't heard the last of this. He would be asking questions later.

'What did Michael want?' Serena asked as she deposited the folders and one of the coffees on the desk.

'The same as you, by the looks of it', Hanssen answered, eyeing the folders with distaste, and carefully moved the mug onto a leather coaster. Serena had to smile. Feeling impish, she deliberately perched on the corner of the desk and began fiddling with one of the pens that had been lined up neatly, top to tail, by Hanssen's laptop. He narrowed his eyes.

'Would you mind….?'

'It's a pen, Henrik. Relax'.

He scowled as he picked up the coffee, and Serena pointed at the folders.

'Need your signature on those'.

Hanssen sighed and pulled the top one towards him, reaching over to take the pen from Serena's hand.

'So, did the rest of the op go okay?'

He nodded as he began completing the forms.

'As far as I know, the patient is out of recovery and in HDU. As long as he isn't dead by tomorrow morning, I think we can safely assume everything will go ahead'.

'Jac will be insufferable'. Serena smirked as she sipped her own coffee, thinking back to the other aspect of the operation that she had noticed earlier.

'Is there something funny about that prospect?' Hanssen enquired, taking another folder from the pile.

'Jac and Jonny', Serena mused, and Hanssen wrinkled his brow in confusion.

'Honestly, Henrik, are you telling me you haven't noticed?' Serena demanded. He blinked a couple of times, and then shrugged.

'I suppose it would explain Miss Naylor's flustered state when I saw her exiting the on-call room this morning'.

Serena raised her eyebrows, an incredulous smile spreading over her face. Hanssen gave a little cough.

'And it would explain why Mr Maconie looked equally flustered when he left the on-call room two minutes later'.

Serena spluttered with laughter.

'Well. Did you not give them a lecture about proper use of hospital resources?'

'I thought, given the circumstances of today, that perhaps it would be wise not to'.

'Hmmm'. Serena put her mug down. 'Suppose that was wise. You never know when you might need it for the same purpose, and you wouldn't want to be hypocritical'.

Hanssen looked slightly shocked.

'Ms Campbell, please tell me…..no, actually don't tell me. I don't think I want to know'.

'Whether I've ever misused an on-call room?' Serena was really enjoying herself now. 'That depends on how you define 'misuse'. I was on-call, but I don't remember sleeping much'.

Hanssen held up his free hand to stop her.

'Enough'.

Serena smiled and finished her coffee in silence as Hanssen continued signing forms.

'When are you meeting with the board?'

'The day after tomorrow'. Hanssen did not look up. 'And no, you are not invited. I will let you know if any decisions need to be taken'.

'Hmm'.

Hanssen signed the last page in the last folder and placed the pen carefully down on the desk, precisely lining it up with the one next to it. Serena resisted the temptation to move it, and was quite proud of herself for doing so. She couldn't help speculating whether Hanssen's house was as neat and ordered as his desk, and then thought of course it would be. Hanssen's entire life was neat and ordered. She wondered how far she had disrupted it.

'So. Do we need to talk?'

Hanssen sighed and leaned back in his chair. 'Probably'.

Serena was surprised at the admission. She had expected him to put up more resistance than that, but decided not to complain. Instead, she made a snap decision.

'What are you doing later?'

'I have a meeting with Miss Naylor to discuss the implications of today, and….' He indicated his laptop. 'A mountain of emails to get through. I don't seem to have got much done today at all'. He shot her an accusing look.

'So not tonight, then'.

Hanssen shook his head. 'Do you have plans?'

'Well…..' Serena looked at him over the rim of her coffee mug, and decided there was nothing to lose by being honest. 'I had at least an hour set aside for thinking about last night, and another half hour for wondering whether I should phone you or not. Once I decided to phone you it would take another half hour to pluck up the courage to dial. Then, of course, you might not answer, by which time I'll be well down a bottle of wine and wondering what the hell to do. So I thought I might as well just ask you now'.

Serena saw that Hanssen was watching her, his look both amused and slightly amazed. She realized that she had just revealed far more of her feelings than she had intended, but before she could speak again, Hanssen leaned forward.

'So it seems it would save a lot of time and worry – not to mention alcohol – if I maybe came over again tomorrow after we both finish here. If that would be convenient?'

Serena nodded slowly.

Hanssen nodded, and reached across the desk. Serena's breath caught in her throat as his hand touched hers, and then she smiled as she realized she had unconsciously picked up another pen and was twirling it round and round in her fingers. Hanssen gently took it from her and replaced it in the line on the desk before picking up the pile of folders and handing them back to her.

'Until tomorrow then, Ms Campbell'.

She narrowed her eyes and studied him for a few seconds before leaning over the desk and brushing her lips against his. When she drew back, the look of astonishment on his face left her smiling broadly.

'Until tomorrow. Mr Hanssen'.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews for the last chapter! I'm almost finished writing this story now, so the next couple of updates should hopefully not be too long. I have a slight problem with obsessive editing, so I tend to hang onto chapters for longer than I probably should...wonder if there's a help group for that?!_

_Hope you enjoy x_

* * *

'Christ almighty'.

Serena's muttered oath was directed at the television. She had been flicking channels for the past five minutes and there was absolutely nothing on. Blowing out a sigh, she hit the standby button on the remote and stood up to pour herself another glass of wine. She couldn't settle. And, much as she hated to admit it, it was thoughts of Hanssen that were sending her slightly haywire.

Despite making arrangements – well, more like loose plans – for tomorrow, she had been thinking about him ever since she had left his office earlier that afternoon. Even Ric had noticed she seemed distracted, and she was very grateful that she had managed to avoid Michael. Making an excuse for the two cups of coffee that he had caught her with would have been easy enough. Explaining away the blush that she knew coloured her cheeks whenever she remembered their flirting and parting kiss would not have been so straightforward.

She narrowed her eyes at the now-blank television screen as she took a sip of her wine. She couldn't remember the last time a man had made her feel like this – or, in fact, the last time anything of any description had made her feel like this – and she couldn't decide if she liked it or not. Usually so in control of everything around her, Serena felt like she was being pulled along on a rollercoaster that she hadn't asked to join. She wasn't ready for it, but, when she thought about it, she didn't think she wanted to get off either.

Shaking her head at herself, she padded through to the kitchen, wondering what she had in the way of junk food. She was already in her pajamas, having dived straight into a deep, hot bubble bath when she arrived home from work, but far from taking her mind off Hanssen, it had only made things worse. She stood on tiptoe as she reached to the back of the cupboard, hoping that Eleanor had not discovered her stash of sweets, and grinned in triumph as she pulled out a bag of Haribo. Tangfastics were not the healthiest dinner she had ever had but they would do for tonight.

Ripping open the bag, Serena headed back through to the living room to try and find a book or magazine or something to occupy her mind. There was no point in going to bed. She would never sleep. Chewing on a sour gummy bear, she spied Eleanor's latest edition of _Marie Claire_ lying underneath last week's newspapers on the coffee table. She never read fashion magazines usually – she couldn't see the point of looking through endless pages of skinny women modeling the latest outfits that she wouldn't be seen dead in and couldn't afford anyway - but, as she was discovering, there was a first time for everything. She settled herself back down on the sofa with the bag of sweets, her wine glass and the magazine, and was just getting comfortable when a knock at the front door made her jump.

'What the….?'

She was not expecting anyone. If Eleanor had been coming home earlier than planned she would have sent a text and besides, she had a key with her. Serena threw down the magazine and headed towards the front door, wine and sweets clutched in one hand. She thought wryly that the sight of her in bright check pajamas and an old Harvard university sweatshirt would send all but the most determined visitor scurrying away.

'Henrik?'

He looked a bit uncomfortable and tense, standing on her doorstep in his suit and coat as she squinted at him under the glare of the security light. She pulled the door fully open, her brow furrowed in confusion, and briefly wished she had bothered to get dressed again after her bath. But her pajamas were obviously not having the effect she thought they would, as he stayed on the doorstep and the ghost of a smile crossed his face.

'Am I interrupting something?'

She had to smile as she stood aside to let him in.

'Only this'.

She held up the hand with the Haribo and the wine, and took his coat with the other. She realized that she was pleased to see him – but that didn't stop her wondering why he had chosen to show up at ten thirty at night.

'I thought we said tomorrow?'

'We did'.

'I thought you were busy tonight'.

He shrugged.

'I was. But when I finished…..well. Tomorrow seemed like a long time to wait'.

Serena stared at him for a moment. He looked as stiff and formal as he always did, his expression now unreadable. But she was quickly learning to understand the small flickers of emotion he sometimes allowed to show through in his eyes, and now she saw that he was nervous. She guessed it had taken him a while to decide to drive to her house instead of straight home.

He gestured to her pajamas.

'I can go if you're wanting an early night'.

Serena smirked. As well as being nervous, Hanssen was also slightly embarrassed. She shook her head.

'I wasn't going to bed yet. And anyway, it could have been worse. If you'd come an hour ago, I would still have been in the bath'.

He blinked and she reached for his hand, loosely taking hold of his fingers to lead him through to the living room. She settled herself back down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to her. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he sat down.

''Would you like one?'

He raised his eyebrows. 'One of what? A sour jelly sweet that's guaranteed to rot my insides or a glass of wine?'

'That's also guaranteed to rot your insides, just in a different way? Either. Both'.

To her surprise, he reached across and dug into the bag, pulling out a cola bottle and grimacing as he chewed.

'It tastes better washed down'.

She held up her wine glass, and he nodded.

Serena got up again to fetch the bottle and another glass, setting both down on the coffee table in front of him before sitting back on the sofa, her legs curled under her. She watched him silently for a moment, sipping her wine, but he didn't speak. He was staring at the newspapers, and she wondered if last Sunday's Times was really that fascinating.

'Are you at least going to take your jacket off?'

He didn't reply, but reached for another sweet. Serena sighed, and shifted over so that she was almost touching him. She reached up and slowly pushed the dark suit jacket off his shoulders and, as he pulled his arms free of the sleeves, she began loosening his tie and undoing the top button of his shirt. Satisfied that he looked a bit more comfortable, physically at least, she sat back against the cushions.

'There. So. Generally, when two people are sat next to each other like we are now, they do one of two things. They either talk to each other, or….'

Hanssen looked mildly surprised.

'The last time I went to London, the man sitting next to me on the Tube did neither of those things'.

'I'm pleased to hear it. But we're on my sofa. You kissed me last night and told me today that we should probably talk about it, and then you show up on my doorstep at half past ten at night. So I was sort of assuming that you wanted to talk.'

Serena hadn't really meant to sound so impatient – although she would be the first to admit that patience was not her forte. But if she left him to his own devices, she thought Hanssen would probably sit there in silence all night. Despite the fact that he had obviously decided he wanted to see her, conversation, especially of the personal kind, did not come easily to him. It didn't to her either, really, but it seemed she had had a lot more practice.

She sighed again, putting her glass down on the table and reached to take his from his hand too.

'But if you really don't want to talk, you could at least kiss me again'.

* * *

Serena leaned back against the corner of the sofa and reached for her wine. Her legs and bare feet were resting in Hanssen's lap, and as his fingers gently stroked backwards and forwards along the top of her foot to her ankle, a little shiver of pleasure ran through her. She smirked inwardly. He might not be much good at conversation, but he could certainly make his feelings known in other ways. He had taken her up on her invitation to kiss her again and this time she was very grateful that she was safely sat down on the sofa. His lips seemed to be capable of doing things to her body that she had not thought possible. Somewhere along the line her sweatshirt had ended up on the floor, but everything else seemed intact. For now.

'Is Eleanor not coming home tonight?'

Serena shook her head. Hanssen knew, of course, that she had a daughter, so she figured she should have expected the question at some point.

'Staying with her father for a few days'.

She tried to keep her voice neutral. The last thing she wanted was for Hanssen to realize how bitter her divorce had been and how much of a struggle it was sometimes to keep things civil. She would have been quite happy never to see her ex-husband again, but unfortunately he was Eleanor's father.

'Ah'.

The look on Hanssen's face said that she had not been as successful at hiding her feelings as she usually was, and he looked as if he wished he hadn't asked. She reached for the bag of sweets again, suddenly desperate for something, anything, as a distraction, but paused with her hand on a jelly shape and looked over and met his gaze.

He would never ask, she knew that. Henrik Hanssen was the one person she had ever met who was as reluctant as she was to open up to others, and so, like her, he never expected others to open up to him. But something in his look made her want to talk, to explain. And, she reasoned, it wasn't as if she could clearly define 'private life' anymore where he was concerned. The line was becoming more blurred by the day. If her world was going to turn upside down anyway, she figured she might as well give it a helping hand.

'We divorced over ten years ago. It wasn't exactly amicable'.

Serena paused, and popped the sweet into her mouth. Chewing slowly, she realized she had never spoken about this to anyone.

'You would have thought that after a decade we could talk to each other like adults, but it doesn't usually work out that way. If it wasn't for Eleanor, I'd love to pretend it never happened. She was the only good thing to come out of it'.

She smiled to try and lighten what she was saying, but Hanssen just nodded.

'How long were you married?'

Serena blinked at the question.

'Three years. Long enough to bring out the worst in each other'.

She unconsciously brought her hand up to touch her cheek, but dropped it quickly as she realized Hanssen had seen. The unspoken question in his eyes was obvious, and she silently cursed herself for not being more careful. She knew she didn't have to say anything, but didn't see the point in lying when he had guessed the truth anyway.

'Once'.

She didn't look at him. She couldn't, and this time the wine glass provided the distraction.

'That was the day I discovered what stilettos are really for. He never laid a finger on me again - literally'. She didn't see any reason to elaborate even further. It really hadn't taken long, she reflected, for it to all fall apart.

'Okay, enough about me', she said lightly. This had gone too far already. Despite all the surprises of the previous two days, nothing had prepared her for the feeling of actually being this comfortable talking to Henrik Hanssen.

He didn't look up, but continued stroking her ankle.

'I'm sorry', he said quietly.

'For what?' Serena was surprised. Her disastrous marriage had hardly been his fault.

'Asking'.

'You didn't ask', she reminded him, poking him playfully in the arm with her toe. 'I told you'.

'Yes, but….'

She stopped him with a shake of her head and took a deep breath.

'I felt comfortable telling you', she admitted quietly. 'Which is a very strange feeling for me'. She reached over and put her empty glass down on the floor. 'In fact, you're having a very strange effect on me altogether'.

His fingers stopped moving, and she suddenly panicked that she had said too much. Too much, too soon. This was still the same Hanssen, after all.

'I'm glad I wasn't the first one to admit that'.

His voice was soft, little more than a murmur, but she knew she had not misheard.

'I suppose that's what I came here to try and tell you, but…..' He shrugged and looked over at her, a hint of a sheepish smile on his face. 'I did warn you this is not my strong point'.

She smiled back, her stomach doing little backflips. Although, she thought logically, the sour cola bottles weren't helping.

'Not mine either. What's that saying? Blind leading the blind?'

Hanssen smiled properly now. 'That sounds appropriate'.

'So do we give it a go?'

Serena was typically blunt again and, if she was honest, she wasn't really sure what 'it' was. But she felt they'd both come too far to back off now. There was a moment of agonizing, thoughtful silence before Hanssen finally nodded.

'I suppose I have now seen you in your pajamas'.

Serena nodded, smirking. 'A line has been crossed. And these are the respectable ones'.

He feigned a look of horror and she poked him again, harder this time.

'Well, you know what the answer is if you don't like them'.

He raised his eyebrows, pretending innocence as she shifted up to sit on his lap.

'Take you shopping?'

His hands slipped around her waist and down to rest on her hips, and she smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

'Enough talking'.

* * *

Slowly, very slowly, Serena became conscious of the fact that she was cold. She shifted a little, her eyes still closed, and pulled the quilt further over her head. Her sleep-filled brain registered the fact that she wasn't wearing her pajamas, which would probably explain why she was chilly, but for a moment she couldn't remember why that would be. She always wore pajamas.

With a flash of memory that worked better than any alarm clock, the events of the night before came back to her and she was jolted wide awake. She wasn't sure whether to groan or laugh out loud, and settled for snuggling further under the quilt instead. She reached an arm over to the other side of the bed and, although it was warm, there was no one there. She briefly wondered if she had dreamt it. If so, she was willing to pull her first sickie and stay in bed for the rest of the day. It was the best dream she had had for years.

Pulling herself up and out from under the quilt, she sat up and gazed around the bedroom. Henrik – she was starting to think of him now as Henrik rather than Hanssen, which was just as well if she remembered rightly about last night – was nowhere to be seen, but she relaxed slightly as she caught sight of his clothes piled up on the blanket chest at the bottom of the bed. She guessed that meant he hadn't done a runner, although she was learning to take nothing for granted. The deliciously sore feeling that she got when she moved would remind her of that for a couple of days yet, and a slow grin spread across her face. Pushing back the covers, she grabbed her dressing gown from the back of the bedroom door and padded downstairs quietly. She had a feeling she knew where he would be.

'So you're still here then'.

She leaned against the kitchen door, watching him pour coffee into two large mugs. He turned and smiled, looking slightly embarrassed with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

'Did you really think I'd left?'

Serena shook her head and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head against his back.

'Not once I saw your clothes still there. I thought even you wouldn't have headed home in just a towel'.

She moved away slightly as he turned and slipped his hands around her waist again, pulling her in for a slow kiss.

'Are you all right?'

She smiled. His concern was kind of sweet, and she nodded.

'Umm-hmm'. She looked up at him, a teasing glint in her eye. 'Just out of practice, that's all'.

'I was going to bring you coffee'.

'You could still bring me coffee'. She looked up at the clock. 'I have no intention of actually getting up at quarter to six when I don't have to be at work until nine'.

He raised his eyebrows.

'Back to bed?'

She nodded decisively and turned, the twinkle in her eyes making sure that he followed.

'Back to bed. I want to make sure I didn't dream last night'.


	7. Chapter 7

_Hope everyone's had a lovely Easter weekend! And thank you all - again - for the lovely reviews for the last chapter. Hope you enjoy this! _

* * *

'Spill'.

Serena looked up in surprise, abruptly brought out of her daydream to see Eleanor standing by the sofa looking down at her. She smiled and pulled herself up to a sitting position to accept the glass of wine being held out to her, before Eleanor settled herself at the other end of the sofa.

'That sounds like something Michael Spence would say. And what makes you think there's something to spill?'

She had no intention of telling Eleanor that she had spent last night with her boss. Neither was she going to admit that it had put her in such a distractedly good mood that her colleagues at work had been commenting on it all day. Evidently her unusual cheerfulness had not bypassed her daughter, either.

'Come on, Mum, I wasn't born yesterday'.

'I know, I was there'.

'So who is it?'

'Who?'

She looked innocently over at Eleanor as she sipped her wine, but Eleanor just raised her eyebrows and smirked. Serena wondered when her sixteen-year-old daughter had become so like her. She wasn't sure if it was something to worry about or something to be proud of.

'I've seen you distracted before. Over work, over Grandma. And over me'.

Eleanor added the last almost as an afterthought, and Serena smiled.

'And this time it's different. So therefore it must be a man'.

Serena almost choked on her wine.

'What…? How is that conclusion logical?'

'You've been walking around with a stupid grin on your face since you got home. You threw a pizza in the oven for dinner and then forgot about it. You've eaten your emergency packet of dolly mixtures. And….'

There was a look of smugness on Eleanor's face as she reached into her jeans pocket to pull out the final piece of evidence.

'I found this. This is definitely not yours'.

Serena blinked and raised her eyebrows as Eleanor held up a man's silver watch.

'It's ok, it was in the bathroom. I didn't go into your bedroom'.

'Eleanor!'

Serena felt her face grow hot, and Eleanor smiled gleefully.

'I knew it! So who is it?'

'This is not an appropriate conversation'.

'The American?'

Serena spluttered into her glass.

'Michael? You are joking. No. Definitely not'.

She realized too late that she had just entered into that inappropriate conversation that she had been trying to avoid.

'The black guy….what's his name, Ric?'

'Enough. And why are you going through all my work colleagues?'

'Because you don't socialize. So it must be someone from the hospital'.

Eleanor's brow furrowed before she looked at Serena, her eyes wide.

'Not the gangly Swede?'

Serena took a large mouthful of wine, and didn't answer.

'Oh, crap'.

'Eleanor!'

Eleanor's mouth was twitching. Her expression said she knew Serena would kill her for laughing, but she couldn't help herself.

'Mum, he's your boss'.

'I know that'. Serena's voice came out as a groan.

'You said he was the most arrogant, cold man you had ever met'.

'Do you have to remind me?'

'And he's about a foot too tall for you'.

'Eight inches, actually'.

'You've measured? Oh, bloody hell. Too much information'.

'Watch your language'.

Eleanor handed her the watch, her eyes twinkling.

'You'd better give this back to him tomorrow, then. Unless he's coming over to collect it?'

Serena took it from her and turned it over in her hands, suddenly thoughtful. She had not seen Hanssen all day. There had not even been so much as an email, which was unusual. She had seen him from a distance a couple of times, but had not been able to catch him. Either he was very busy or he had deliberately found something to take him in the opposite direction.

She had not thought much of it – it was probably best to keep a low profile at work anyway – but now she wondered why he had not asked her about his watch. He always wore it. She was almost certain he would have noticed it was missing, and the only place he could have left it would have been here. The tiny, niggling thought crossed her mind that he was avoiding her, and she wondered why.

'Mum?'

Serena shook herself out of her thoughts, and nodded. She put the watch on the coffee table.

'Yes, I'll give it to him tomorrow'.

Eleanor suddenly looked serious.

'I don't mind, you know'.

'Don't mind?'

'You having a boyfriend. Or whatever you call it when you're older'.

Serena raised her eyebrows.

'Older?'

Eleanor ignored her.

'He obviously makes you happy'.

She smirked, and cast a glance at her mother out of the corner of her eye.

'Or at least, he did last night'.

Serena's mouth dropped open.

'Eleanor, enough!'

Eleanor laughed and stood up from the sofa, dropping an unexpected kiss on to Serena's head.

'If this is the effect he has on you, then I quite like him too'.

She swung out of the living room towards the kitchen, and Serena heard her put the kettle on.

'And why's that?'

'You haven't nagged me about homework all evening'.

* * *

Serena hovered outside Hanssen's office, pacing backwards and forwards. She had been doing the same thing for the past five minutes and had attracted some strange looks from a couple of nurses walking briskly along towards the lift, but she had ignored them. She had come up here intending to ask Hanssen how his meeting with the board about Jac's procedure had gone that morning – and also to return his watch, which he still had not asked her for. In fact, he had still not spoken to her about anything. It was beginning to worry her slightly. The idea that he was avoiding her was niggling away at the back of her mind, refusing to leave her alone. And if that was the case, she could only think of one reason why it would be.

She paused in her pacing and took a deep breath. What was that expression Eleanor had come out with once?

'Grow a pair', she muttered.

She had threatened to box Eleanor's ears for that during one of their many arguments, but now it seemed rather appropriate, and she shook her head and smiled as she recalled their conversation from the night before. It had been a long time since they had talked about anything other than school or work, or argued. She thought ruefully that she really must make more of an effort. If it took Hanssen and his lost watch to make her and her daughter talk and have fun, then things must be worse than she thought.

Before she could change her mind again, she raised her hand and knocked sharply on the door.

Hanssen turned from his laptop as she entered his office, and, although his expression did not change, she caught one of those flickers in his eyes. Was he pleased to see her? As she crossed the floor to his desk, she realized that she couldn't tell.

'Ms Campbell. What can I do for you?'

She raised her eyebrows at the question, and then decided to try and keep it professional. For now, at least.

'I was wondering how your meeting with the board went this morning'.

Hanssen nodded.

'Ah, yes'.

He gestured to the chair in front of his desk, inviting her to take a seat, but she remained standing. She suddenly felt a bit nervous and jumpy to sit still.

'The meeting with the board went well. They have agreed that the procedure is worth investing in, but wish to see another unequivocal result before money is spent in establishing it as a feature of Holby. So Miss Naylor will have to wait a little bit longer.'

Serena nodded, although she was a bit surprised. It must have shown in her face since Hanssen went on to explain further.

'They feel that in a time when costs have to be managed carefully and savings have to be made, it is unfair to ask other departments to shoulder further cuts to make way for a procedure that has only been tested in this environment once'.

She wondered how many times he had rehearsed that line for it come out so perfectly.

'So the funding would have to come from cuts to other departments'.

Hanssen nodded.

'At the moment, yes'.

Serena sighed. She knew she was jumping the gun, but wanted to be prepared.

'General surgery and Keller?'

She noticed that he did not meet her gaze.

'Possibly'.

Serena shook her head. She should have expected this. Actually, if she was honest, she had expected it. That didn't mean she was happy about it. She rested her hands on the back of the chair and leaned forward as she spoke, her words deliberately measured. Personal feelings – her personal feelings, anyway – had no place in this conversation.

'I have spent the past year working with, against, and around Ric Griffin to try and get Keller running more efficiently. I have done a bloody good job. And so has he. I do not want to have to explain to him – and to the rest of the staff – that their budget has been cut again so that Jac Naylor can cover herself in Japanese glory, however amazing the procedure is. Is that clear?'

Hanssen returned her gaze this time, his eyebrows slightly raised.

'Perfectly, Ms Campbell'.

'Good. So if other arrangements can be made…..'

'If other sources of funding can be found, cuts to other departments will not be made'.

Serena stood back up straight, deciding to leave it for now. There was no point in starting an argument before a final decision had been taken, and she made a mental note to attend the next board meeting on the subject, even if she had to gatecrash. She wanted the procedure to go ahead as much as anyone – it would a fantastic accolade for the hospital – but she didn't think cutting other services was necessarily the best way to go about it.

'Is there anything else, Ms Campbell?' Hanssen looked enquiringly at her.

Serena realized that she had been staring at him, lost in thoughts of budgets and new procedures – and also creeping memories of his hands on her body, his lips on hers, the feeling of waking up sated and happy and…..what did he mean, _is there anything else?_ Of course there was bloody something else. She sighed. If he was going to be like this she would have to try and be careful not to lose her temper.

She reached into her pocket.

'You must have left this'.

'Ah'.

He reached out and took the watch from her hand, looking at it for a few seconds before pulling back the sleeve of his jacket and fastening it to his wrist.

'Thank you'.

Serena raised her eyebrows, and this time she could not help herself.

'Is that all you're going to say?'

He looked at her, his expression the same as it always was. Professional, devoid of any emotion. She suddenly felt like strangling him.

'Should there be something else?'

Serena shook her head slowly. She should maybe have anticipated this, she realized, but he really was trying her patience.

'Usually, Henrik, when two people sleep together they continue to talk to each other afterwards. Unless, of course, it was what they call a one-night stand, in which case they usually have the courtesy to agree upon the fact. But I seem to remember something entirely different'.

Hanssen sighed. He appeared to be thinking; to be deciding what, exactly, to say, and Serena felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

'I'm not sure….'

He paused, but never got the chance to begin speaking again before something in Serena snapped.

'You're not sure? After turning me upside down and inside out and sleeping with me, you're not sure?'

She knew she was going too far, raising her voice, knew she was revealing far more than she had wanted to of how she was feeling, but she couldn't help it. She wanted to reach across the desk, grab hold of his shoulders and shake the emotion out of him that she knew had to be there. She wanted to shout at him, to make him react. She wanted him to give her a reason, any reason, not to turn around and walk out and not look back, because God only knew running away was what she was best at. And this was the first time in a very long time that she had not wanted to run.

She wanted to tell him all that, but the words stuck in her throat.

When he didn't answer, the anger seemed to leave her as quickly as it had come, and she threw up her hands in a gesture of defeat. She didn't have the energy, and she wondered how the hell she had got herself into such a state in such a short space of time.

'Okay. Fine. It was obviously my mistake'.

She turned to leave, but heard Hanssen stand up from his desk behind her. In two long strides he was by her side, holding her arm and preventing her from opening the door.

'Serena, wait'.

The use of her first name again made her stop, but she couldn't look at him. To her fury and embarrassment, she felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she swore silently to herself that the last thing she would ever do on this earth was to cry in front of Henrik Hanssen.

'That is not what I was going to say'.

'Then what?'

She blinked furiously before looking up at him, and was taken aback by the intense expression on his face.

'I meant…..'

An insistent beeping noise interrupted him, and Serena realized it was coming from her pocket.

'For God's sake'.

She groaned, and pulled out her pager. Michael.

'AAU'. She held up the pager, and Hanssen nodded, releasing her arm.

'You should go'.

'I'm sure Michael can wait five minutes'.

Despite her words, she knew she should head down there. Michael and Sacha had been having problems with one particular patient earlier, and Serena suspected it was the same patient now. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself before facing the rest of the hospital.

'So….?'

Hanssen smiled, a small smile but a genuine one nonetheless, and opened the door as her pager went off again.

'It seems Mr Spence needs you rather urgently, Ms Campbell'.

'Later, then?'

She was not going to let him off the hook this time, but found that she wasn't sure whether to be relieved when he nodded.

'Later. And Ms Campbell?'

She turned.

'Thank you for returning the watch'.

She nodded.

'Thank Eleanor. She was the one who found it. I was still too far up in the clouds to notice'.

As she walked away, she caught the look of surprise, and slight discomfort, on his face. The idea that she had been so affected by their night together – and that her daughter knew about it - had obviously rattled him, but for the moment, she had too much else on her mind to care.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews for the last chapter! Almost done - I promise to update again soon, and the next chapter will be the last for this particular story. Enjoy x_

* * *

'We're going to have to get her into theatre. Now'.

'Shit', muttered Michael. His hands were still probing the woman's tumour-ridden abdomen, feeling the distension, trying to work where the bleeding could be coming from. She had been admitted two hours ago, but had deteriorated too fast for them to even think about sending her back up to oncology.

'Blood pressure's dropping'.

'Now, Michael!'

'Okay, okay. Chrissie?'

Chrissie Levy appeared at his side, her nursing scrubs still spattered with the blood that the now-unconscious patient had vomited just fifteen minutes before.

'There's a backlog. Theatre two's free in ten minutes?'

Serena sighed in exasperation, but Michael nodded.

'Right, take it. Can you get her up there please, and prep her as much as you can? Then come back down, I need you here with Sacha. Gemma, you go with her. You can scrub in and observe'.

'Me?'

The young F1 had been treating another patient and was passing the bed when Michael had spoken, her arms full of patient notes.

'You want this F1 prize, or not? Cause is most likely a slow-bleeding tumour. No other F1 is likely to get one of them before the deadline'.

Serena raised her eyebrows at Michael's bluntness, but Gemma's eyes widened.

'Yeah, course'.

'So go catch Chrissie up. Familiarize yourself with the theatre. Ms Campbell and I will be up shortly'.

Gemma hurried off, making a quick detour to drop off the patient folders. Serena watched her go before turning to Michael.

'Are we going or not? Or are you planning on allowing your favourite F1 to operate?'

'She's not my favourite'.

Michael had taken Serena's arm and was guiding her towards his office.

'She's blond, pretty and single as far as I know. What happened to the old Michael Spence?'

'He got caught once too often'.

Michael shut the door to his office and turned to face Serena, his face serious.

'What?'

'Are you going to be okay in theatre?'

Serena bristled. She had no idea why he was asking her that, but it pissed her off.

'Why wouldn't I be?'

'You've been distracted. In a good way, I grant you, but now you look like you've been crying. And you look tired. If you'd rather not do this one, I can ask Sacha to scrub in.'

Serena glared at him.

'I haven't been crying. I'm not tired. I'm perfectly able to concentrate in theatre. Does that answer your question?'

Michael folded his arms and looked at her. Her glare had not put him off.

'What's going on with you and Hanssen?'

'Nothing'.

'Right'. Michael snorted, but Serena just glared at him even more.

'Look, you don't have to tell me. But there's obviously something going on. I won't pretend to understand it, but as long as you're ok. I'm talking as a friend here'.

Serena sighed. She could never be angry with Michael for very long. He was the only who could get away with speaking to her like that – no one else would dare - and besides, he was right.

'We slept together'.

She ignored Michael's expression. It was half grimace, half delighted smile and, she decided, it didn't suit him at all.

'I thought we had agreed it was something more than a one-off. But now I think he's avoiding me and I don't know why. I was just asking him when you paged me'.

'Ouch'.

It was a proper grimace this time.

'Sorry about that'.

Serena brushed off his apology, and held up one finger as she made to leave the office.

'I'm fine to operate. I'm more of a professional than that. And if you breathe one word of this to anyone…..'

She waved the finger threateningly, and Michael nodded, slipping an arm around her and squeezing her shoulders.

'I get it. And you know if you want a drunken shoulder to cry on, we're all heading to Albie's later. Sacha's birthday'.

Serena nodded and gave him a quick smile. She would have to remember to pick up a card later.

'Okay. But for now, can we please get on before the poor patient bleeds to death?'

* * *

'Suction'.

Serena squinted into the woman's open abdomen, trying to distinguish stomach and intestines from the myriad of tiny tumours peppering the flesh. The wash and suction that she had just requested hadn't helped. The abdominal cavity and stomach were slowly filling with blood again and she had no idea where it was coming from.

'Christ, this is hopeless. I can't see a thing'.

'You want me to try again?'

Michael had already passed over to Serena once, and she shook her head.

'Not unless your eyesight's improved in the last five minutes'.

'Who else is on call?'

'Ric's already in theatre'.

'Hanssen?'

Serena stiffened slightly. The last thing she wanted to do was to admit defeat and call Hanssen in.

'No. Can I have another wash please, and more suction'.

'You've done that three times already. Her blood pressure's dropping again, Serena, we need to find it'.

'Shit!'

Serena took a deep breath.

'Okay. Shove some packs in there, please, let's at least try and keep on top of this. And someone page Mr Hanssen'.

It didn't take long before she heard the familiar voice behind her.

'Ms Campbell, Mr Spence'.

Serena turned to see Hanssen, dressed in his red scrubs and with a mask already tied firmly around his face.

'What seems to be the problem?'

'There's a slow bleeding tumour in here somewhere, and neither of us can find it'.

Michael reached in and took over from where Serena was changing the packs they had inserted to try and stop the bleeding. Hanssen peered over the table, and grimaced behind his mask.

'Right. Take those packs out, and get ready with the suction and clips, please'.

Serena stood back, watching him work. She had to admit he was a brilliant surgeon. Probably, she thought, a better surgeon than he was a manager. She wondered again what he had been going to say to her, but pushed the questions firmly from her mind. She wouldn't – couldn't - allow that to interfere with her work.

'Got it', Hanssen muttered.

Serena looked around his shoulder, and saw where his clip was pointing. The tear had been on one of the tumours inside the stomach, hidden on the underneath side. No wonder it had been so difficult to spot.

'Are we taking it out or doing a repair job?'

'Repair'.

It was Michael who had spoken, and they both looked at him.

'There's too many interconnected tumours to take out one. We take one, we have to take them all, and the position of some of them means that's impossible. We're not geared up for it now anyway'.

Hanssen nodded and began preparing to stitch the tear, but stopped and looked over to the corner of the theatre.

'Miss Wilde?'

'Yes?'

Gemma jumped as he spoke to her, and Hanssen held out the tiny needle.

'I presume you are here for a reason, and you may as well make yourself useful'.

'You being serious? Do you mean for me to….?'

Gemma looked terrified, and Serena raised her eyebrows at Hanssen. Michael gave his F1 an encouraging smile from behind his mask.

'I am always serious, Miss Wilde, and I always mean exactly what I say'.

Gemma tentatively stepped forward, and took a deep breath as she took the needle from Hanssen's hand. Hanssen stepped back slightly to allow her room to work, standing next to Serena while Michael began supervising the stitching.

'Do you?' Serena asked quietly.

'Do I what?'

'Always mean what you say'.

Hanssen looked sharply at her. For a moment, she thought he was going to tell her that this was not the time, or the place, and he would have been perfectly right to do so. Instead, he nodded.

'Even what you say to me?'

'Especially what I say to you, Ms Campbell'.

She looked over at him, not quite believing what she had heard or really understanding what he meant. He did not look at her as he continued speaking softly.

'And if you had let me finish earlier, you would have realized that I was not going to say that I wasn't sure about you, or about our decision'.

'So what did you mean then?'

She saw Michael looking at them, saw Gemma glancing up in between stitches, and realized that she had raised her voice slightly.

'Did it really mean that little to you?'

Serena had dropped the volume back down to an angry whisper as Michael began talking again, to guide Gemma through finishing up but also to cover their conversation. She was grateful. She knew she already owed him a drink for not insisting they take it outside theatre, but then realized he didn't want to ask them to leave in case something went wrong on the table.

When she looked at Hanssen, his eyes were still firmly fixed on the patient's open abdomen, and she wondered if the conversation was over.

'It meant too much to me, Ms Campbell. That was the problem'.

Before she could react he had moved back to the operating table. He inspected the stitching, and reached his finger in to give the offending tumour a little poke.

'That seems to be holding very well. Blood pressure and oxygen levels are stabilising. That was good work, Miss Wilde. I don't think you require my services here any more, Mr Spence?'

Michael gave him a startled look and, dumbstruck as she was, Serena realized that he had been following their whispered conversation. She closed her eyes briefly, feeling both slightly horrified and slightly hysterical, as Michael shook his head at Hanssen.

'We got it from here. Thanks'.

Hanssen gave a little bow of his head.

'Anytime'.

When she opened her eyes, Hanssen had gone and both Michael and Gemma were staring at her, Michael looking amazed and Gemma confused. Serena caught Michael's eye, and shook her head.

'Not now, Michael'.

'Yes, now. Looks like you two need to talk'.

Serena looked over at the monitors at the top of the table, still feeling shocked.

'No point when he's talking in riddles. Pressure's back up to almost normal. We should be able to close up now'.

'Didn't sound like a riddle to me. In fact, I thought that for Hanssen, he made his feelings remarkably obvious'.

He indicated to one of the scrub nurses that he wanted the tray for closing up, and began prepping the wound while Gemma watched, her eyes flicking between him and Serena. Serena took a deep breath as she realized that, when this operation was over, it would most likely be all around the hospital that she and Hanssen had been talking about personal matters in theatre. Michael would keep quiet, she knew that. Gemma had no clue what was going on. The anesthetist and two scrub nurses, however, were a different matter. She groaned inwardly. Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut?

Michael paused in what he was doing and looked up, an exasperated look on his face behind the mask.

'What are you still doing here, Serena?'

'What?'

Michael waved his gloved hand towards the swing doors.

'Gemma and I can finish off here. Go catch him up'.

'Michael….'

'Go'.

She didn't need telling again. As she pushed open the doors with her hip, holding her bloody gloved hands out of the way, she heard Gemma's questioning voice.

'What the hell was that all about?'

Michael sounded slightly amused as she heard him sigh.

'Sometimes, with those two, it's best just not to ask. Now. You gonna close up or do I have to do it for you?'


	9. Chapter 9

_A shorter chapter to finish off with! Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews, and thank you for reading it! _

_I do have a confession to make - I've already started a sequel story to this, just for the pleasure of writing it. These two are so much fun! So if people want to read more...well, let me know! _

_Enjoy x_

* * *

Serena finally caught up with Hanssen in the stairwell somewhere between the third and fourth floors. She was panting from running up so many flights of stairs and, as she stopped by the window to catch her breath, she realized that he was standing a few steps above her, looking down at her with barely concealed amusement.

'Another emergency, Ms Campbell?'

She scowled at him, her fingers rubbing a stitch in her side.

'Why couldn't you just take the lift like normal people do?'

'When the lift came it was full of two road accident victims and a vomiting child. I thought it best to take the stairs'.

She leaned her back against the concrete windowsill, gazing up at him and, inappropriate though it was, couldn't help thinking that red scrubs suited him. He gave her a questioning look as he came back down the steps to stand next to her.

'Is there a reason you've come running after me?'

'You know damn well there is'.

Serena shook her head, and turned look out of the window at the ambulance bay below. She suddenly wasn't sure what to say.

'Mr Spence is managing in theatre?'

She gave him a withering look.

'Michael Spence was the one who told me to come running after you'.

'Ah'.

'So. What exactly did you mean back there?'

She raised her eyebrows as he opened his mouth to speak.

'And don't say you meant what you said. I don't know what you did say. Michael seemed to think it was pretty clear-cut, but I must be fairly dense when it comes to these things'.

Hanssen sighed.

'Obviously so am I'.

Serena could feel the warmth from his body through his scrubs as he moved closer to her. Trying to resist the temptation to lean against him, she rested her elbows on the ledge instead, and looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

'You've taken me completely by surprise', Hanssen admitted quietly. 'I never expected to feel anything like that again, and especially not with you'.

Serena turned to face him, but his gaze was fixed on the rose garden at the far end of the car park. She wanted to ask about the 'again', but kept her mouth shut, wondering if it had something to do with his time in Sweden. Before she could contemplate that any further, Hanssen spoke again.

'Unlike you, Ms Campbell, I am a coward, and I tend to run from feelings rather than face them. I also did not see why you would want to do what you did without…..'

He paused, and Serena had a horrible feeling she knew what he was trying to say.

'Without an ulterior motive?'

He did not take his eyes from the garden, but nodded.

Serena closed her eyes again for a moment. She seemed to be doing that a lot today, and took a few deep breaths. When she opened them again, it was to see Hanssen looking at her, his eyes worried and his expression tense.

'You know something, Henrik?'

He raised his eyebrows as she stood up straight.

'You're an idiot. And right now I'm not sure whether to slap you, yell at you or kiss you'.

He looked vaguely astonished.

'Given that we're in a public place, I'm not sure any of the above would be a good idea'.

'I don't see anyone else around – but give me five minutes to decide which one it's going to be'.

Serena ran her fingers through her short hair, and gazed at Hanssen in exasperation.

'I am more than capable of taking your job out from under you without needing to sleep with you'.

'Yes, I think we established that a while ago'.

Hanssen grimaced at the memory.

'I slept with you because I'm attracted to you. And God only knows why, but I found I actually enjoy your company as well. Those were my motivations. Until just now I had no idea about yours. You can be the most frustrating, reserved, aloof man I think I've ever met in my life. But one thing you are not is a coward'.

Serena paused to take a breath.

'And now we'll be lucky if the whole hospital isn't gossiping by tomorrow, and my daughter found your watch in the bathroom'.

She stopped again as she remembered the teasing look on Eleanor's face, and was suddenly overcome with the urge to laugh. She had no idea why. The situation really wasn't funny, but she couldn't help it. A little giggle escaped her, and the look of shock on Hanssen's face at her outburst just made it even worse.

'Oh, for God's sake'.

She reached up and pulled him towards her, wanting to kiss him and not caring if anyone saw them. He stiffened, and then relaxed slowly as she continued pressing her lips to his, slipping his arms around her waist and deepening the kiss. When they finally pulled apart, he smiled wryly at her.

'So I've escaped the slapping?'

She nodded.

'I might still yell at you later though'.

Speaking of later suddenly reminded her of the invitation to Albie's for Sacha's birthday, and she looked up at Hanssen, wondering whether he would come or not. She had never known him to join the staff for drinks before, apart from at Christmas, but supposed there was only one way to find out.

'It's Sacha Levy's birthday'.

'Oh?'

'Drinks at Albie's later'.

'Umm-hmm'.

'Are you coming?'

'I wasn't aware I had an invitation'.

Serena snorted.

'Oh, come on. No one needs an invite for Albie's. Besides, they've only given up asking you because you never go'.

'So are you asking me to go?'

'No'. She reached up and rested a hand on his chest. 'I'm asking you to come with me. Think of it as our first official date'.

He hesitated, and she sighed. A kiss in the stairwell was one thing, but Albie's was obviously a step too far. It was maybe just as well, she thought; there would be enough gossip after that operation anyway.

Checking her watch to hide the slight disappointment, she realized that she should really get back to the ward. And she had that card to buy.

'OK. Never mind. But if you change your mind, you know where we are'.

* * *

Later that evening, Serena stood up to go to the bar with Ric to get more drinks. Albie's was busy, and she had spent the past hour squashed round a tiny table with Sacha, Michael and Chrissie, and was already halfway down her second glass of wine when Ric had offered to get the next round. She could see Oliver Valentine and Tara Lo over by the slot machine with Chantelle. Jac and Jonny were sitting at the bar, and Serena was pleased to see that for once Jac had a smile on her face. In fact, she thought as she waited for Ric to order, there weren't many people missing apart from those that were still working; Sacha was a popular guy. The music was loud, the conversation louder, and when Ric tapped her on the shoulder she didn't immediately catch what he said.

She leaned closer to hear him as he repeated himself, and realized that he was pointing discreetly behind her towards the door.

'Looks like another one's joined the round'.

She turned and saw Hanssen entering the room. He looked a bit apprehensive, but was immediately accosted by Jac. As they talked, Serena could see that he was attracting a few curious glances, but on the whole people didn't seem that surprised to see him. She wondered how far the gossip of earlier had already travelled, and tried not to think about it as she felt Ric's eyes on her. She knew that he was probably resisting the urge to ask. But she couldn't help watching Hanssen out of the corner of her eye, and couldn't help noticing that he was surreptitiously scanning the room before returning his gaze to the bar.

He was looking for her.

The thought gave a warm feeling in her tummy, and she hastily took another sip of her drink as she realized Michael was smirking at her from the table.

Serena turned back to the bar as Ric paid, aware that Hanssen had seen her and was making his way over. She sensed him come up behind her, heard him greet Ric and order himself a drink. She felt his arm slip around her shoulder and trace the line of her jacket down, coming to rest lightly in the small of her back. She stiffened slightly, not looking at Ric – or at anyone else for that matter. The butterflies that had hatched in her stomach when Hanssen had entered the bar were taking flight in a big way, and she realized that her hand was shaking slightly. Was this really what he wanted?

Serena could feel the eyes of the room slowly turn to them, could sense as well as hear the dip in conversation as people noticed that Hanssen's arm was now fully around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and she looked round and up at him uncertainly.

She had been wanting a bit of reassurance, since he had been the one to initiate this public display of affection. Perhaps a squeeze of her shoulder as he took his drink from the barman, a quick smile before he found himself somewhere to sit. She hadn't been expecting him to turn and kiss her lightly, but slowly, on the lips until he felt her respond, before pulling away and allowing Ric to hand her the glass of wine she had just ordered. She felt like downing it in one.

When she finally found the courage to look around, she saw that they had attracted the attention of most of the bar. Michael, predictably, was smirking broadly. Sacha and Chrissie looked amazed. Jac looked like she wanted to drag Serena to the ladies bathroom and give her the third degree then and there, and Chantelle's mouth was open in the shape of an 'awww', although Serena couldn't hear if she was actually saying it. But she was relieved to see that many of the open mouths were transforming into smiles, and as the conversation level returned to normal, she looked up again to see Hanssen taking a sip of his own drink and nodding at something Ric had said. She had been too far away in her own world to catch it.

He caught her looking at him, and smiled.

'Maybe I should come to Albie's more often'.

She laughed, relief flooding through her, and leaned her head against his shoulder as she took another mouthful of wine.

'Yes'.

Serena slipped her free hand around his waist so that they were holding each other.

'Maybe you should'.


End file.
